


What Took You So Long?

by quasarstar



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Emotional Abuse mention, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Revenge, basically always close to meeting up but never realize, friends seperated then reunited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 11:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13410681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quasarstar/pseuds/quasarstar
Summary: Two friends are seperated by odd circumstances. One is shot in the head and is sent on a journey to try and get revenge on the one who did this to her. The other is trying to find her and reunite. Along the way they make some friends and a plethora of enemies.Basically this is my courier and an original character constantly trying to find each other after the beginning of the game. There are mentions of mental abuse in later chapters but I'll be posting warnings in the top notes of those chapters.





	What Took You So Long?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very excited to work on this story, I hope you guys enjoy it! If you have any constructive criticism or advice for me as I keep going please don't be afraid to share.

Small towns have always been haunting for me. Something about the too few houses and the bar at the center of town that can fit literally every citizen inside is really unsettling. Towns are supposed to be big with a mayor and sheriff, maybe even a deputy if the crime rate is a little too high. That’s not to say that all small towns are haunted, just the ones in the Mojave Wasteland. Goodsprings, for example, is a prime candidate to be haunted. 

Seriously, all this place has is a doctor, a general store, and a bar so run down it looks like a stray sandstorm could knock it over. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Doc Mitchell and Sunshine Smiles were just stray spirits from before the war that refused to cross over. Hell I was almost convinced that I was a ghost until I walked out of the good doctor’s home and into the blinding sun. The sudden bright light compared to the drab, barely lit house gave me a searing headache.

The bullet wounds still healing in my head didn’t help much either.

Guarding my eyes with hands I walked out onto the front porch of the little white home. Once they’d adjusted I walked down the stoop and out the shabby picket fence and into the weird little town, a new purpose on the fore front of my mind.

Some checker-suited fuck thought he could give me a shallow grave out in the middle of nowhere. Guess he didn’t consider the fact that I might just come back from the dead and be his own living breathing ghost. I was ready to haunt his every move until I had the chance to put him in the same situation he put me in. 

But even revenge needs to wait. My stomach growled, and I placed my left hand over it. An annoyed grunt escaped my mouth and I reluctantly walked into the saloon to grab a bite to eat. I walked in with low expectations and was somehow still disappointed. Anything being served up here was bound to be less than clean. Still I sit at a table and its not long until an older woman comes to serve me.

“Hey there,” she greets, rubbing her hands in her apron “, guess you’re the one everybody in town is making a big fuss about. How are ya feeling?”

“Fine I suppose.” Raking my fingers through my dyed purple hair I look over the menu she gives me. “My heads killing me and I’m pissed all to hell, but other than that I’m dandy.”

I think the barkeep picked up my sarcasm on the last word but I can’t be sure. She looked just as mad as I was, which kinda made me even madder. I was pissed because somebody shot me in the head and stole my delivery! What right did she have to be so mad? Did somebody not like her food or something?

“Right.” Her voice is stern when she takes my order. A beer and gecko steak, first class Mojave meal.  
“Name’s Trudy by the way. Let me know if you need anything else. Maybe I could get you a better attitude.” 

Before I could respond she walked away and behind the bar, presumably to spit in my food.

I roll my eyes and look down to my brand new Pip-Boy, or brand old rather. It was asking me my name and presenting a small keyboard of letters to navigate with the little dial to the side of the screen. Guess a sort of “If Found Return To…” sort of thing. Time to see if I could still remember my own name.

Slowly but surely I moved the dial to each corresponding letter of my name. First name then last over the course of two minutes. Not too proud to admit that it took me so long to spell my own name. Fuck you, I was shot in the head.

B-A-R-B-A-R-A.

First name down and there’s a fight going on in the background as I try to focus. Trudy was arguing with some guy about another man. Maybe the guy yelling at her was an old, jealous lover. Maybe the guy owed money and Trudy was trying to protect them. Either way I told them both to shut up. The guy left after threatening to burn down the town and Trudy shot me a stink eye. I didn’t see her do it but I could feel her doing it on the back of my head. With the arguing done I went back to spelling.

W-A-R-R-E-N.

Last name done, and Trudy slams my plate in front of me and splashes the beer so much that half of it ends up on the floor.  
“Enjoy your meal.”

Oh yeah, she definitely spit in my food. I couldn’t care less though, I was way too hungry to care and started chowing down immediately. Quick swigs of my half empty beer to wash down the burnt meat and I was full in five minutes flat. Pretty sure some folks started staring, but I didn’t care. I truly didn’t. 

Not getting up from my seat I started to ask old Trudy about the guys who left me for dead in the armpit of hell that was Goodsprings. Apparently they came in to grab a bite, three guys with the one who shot me as the ring leader. Figures. 

I paid for my food and got out as quick as I could. Any more time in there and I was worried Trudy would get out her shotgun and add her own bullet to my brain’s growing collection. I had no time to stick around anyway, I needed to find whoever shot me. I remembered Doc Mitchell telling me something about a robot saving my life, but the only robot I’ve seen so far was the cowboy securitron. I really hoped he hadn’t meant the robot securitron. But it looked like I had no such luck, so I sucked up my hesitation and sauntered over to him. 

“Hey, robot.” I stand my ground, legs shoulder width apart as I call out to Victor. He turns around with that big wheel and I’m face to face with a creepy cowboy bust on his big screen.

“Well howdy there little lady! You feeling any better?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I was trying to keep this conversation as brief as I could. Robots always had a way of making me uncomfortable. I crossed my arms and looked down to the ground, only briefly looking up at him when he says something that I deem important.

Our conversation is ended with the knowledge that the guy who shot me was seen heading towards Primm. It couldn’t have ended fast enough.

“Thanks Victor.” I give him a nod before turning on my heel to walk away. He wasn’t done talking and started to follow me.

“My pleasure! Ya know, somebody came through here looking for you. Think she’s still around somewhere.”

“I don’t care, Victor.”

He stopped following me after I said that. Guess he got tired of how rude I was being and decided it would be best to leave me alone. That was fine by me, I just wanted to be left alone so I could focus on tracking down Benny and making that fucker eat his own tie. But I couldn’t get that itching notion in the back of my head that I should have listened to Victor. Maybe it was because the person could help me find Benny, or maybe they wanted revenge on him too. 

Or maybe it was because Victor was about to tell me that I was unknowingly about to leave my best friend behind in some backwater town that nobody in their right mind would go to of their own volition.  
If I had just listened to him for five more minutes, just five more fucking minutes, I could have avoided sending Cora on a wild goose chase across the whole damn desert. But I didn’t listen. Hell, maybe none of this shit would have happened to me if I had just listened to Victor, found my friend and just talked my whole revenge plan out with her. That is to say, I didn’t have a plan.

But I didn’t, and poor Cora got roped up into even more shit than I did.

I really wish I had gone back for her, but oh well. We’d run into each other eventually. It’s not that I couldn’t remember her either, of course I could remember my best friend. I just hadn’t thought of her since I basically became a zombie. I know that makes me sound like an asshole, and I can’t right disagree with you if you think that about me. I’d never willingly leave her behind anywhere, Cora’s too sweet to last in the wasteland on her own. Guess that’s what happens when you grow up in a vault.

Either way, I was on my way to Primm with a gun in my hand, pip-boy on my wrist, and wearing a too tight vault suit made for a woman a few sizes smaller than me. First thing once I got there was to find some new clothes, something that wouldn’t make me stand out like a cazador in a bighorner field. Preferably not something I’d have to take off some dead guy’s body, but I’m not picky.  
Way I hear it I was already long gone when the trouble in Goodsprings was starting up, but I’ll be honest with you I couldn’t give a shit about the majority of people in that town. Doc Mitchell was probably the only exception to that, and that’s just because he saved my life.

But if there had to be one person to save that town I’m glad it was Cora. She’s always been a better woman than me.


End file.
